Leave me ALONE!
by Shelby
Summary: Has anyone ever noticed that everyone seems to go to Angel and Collins with their problems? Unfinished RENTfic.


Angel and Collins were snuggled up on their brand new couch, drinking some finely-aged wine and talking in front of a roaring fire. 

Okay, let's face it people, that's completely ludicrous. Let's start over. 

Angel and Collins were snuggled up on their slightly tattered couch, drinking some _reasonable_ tasting wine, and kissing in front of a cheerfully crackling (but in no ways roaring) fire. 

There, much better. 

It was actually quite a nice day for sitting inside and kissing. Outside was white and snowy, betraying the chilling frost a mid-February had brought. Inside, the landlord of the building had finally gotten at least the heaters vaguely working. 

Angel wore a fuzzy, oversized white sweater. The soft fur of the cloth felt good against Collins' cheek as he leaned to nuzzle at the smooth neck, before returning to the sweet taste of his lover's lips.

In between short kisses, Angel managed to giggle, and pull back enough to take another sip from the cup he held in one hand. The other hand was slowly working at the tense muscles in Tom's back, sliding up and under the heavy red sweater. 

_Knock Knock Knock_. 

"Mph," Angel mumbled, sliding out from under Collins. "I'll get that, baby. Hold that thought." 

He trotted to the door, whereupon he twisted the knob and looked out. 

"Well hi honey!" Angel smiled warmly at Maureen, who was shivering in the drafty hallway. 

"Hi Angel" Maureen shivered, teeth chattering. 

"Oh, sugar! You're shaking!" Angel led Maureen inside, before shutting the door and rushing to the closet to get a blanket for her. "Now," he said, ushering the performance artst to the couch where Collins was sitting on the end with a rather dismayed look upon his face. "What's the matter?"

The melodrama began. Maureen went off in a tirade about how unfair it was for Joanne to constantly be treating her as if she was some sort of, of, _slave!_ The woman finished with a flourish, as she declared that she could "no longer live with these horrible violations against her virtuous character." 

Collins tried to mask a snort. 

Angel poured her a cup of cocoa, and gave her a large overcoat that would serve to keep her warm better than the little leather windbreaker she wore. And with a cheerful word and a sympathetic smile, Angel hugged her, and saw her to the door. 

Collins was waiting, staring at the ceiling from his place stretched out on the couch. 

Angel smiled, satisfied, and chirped happily as he put the hot cocoa mix away. 

His blissful look disappeared when he caught sight of poor, forgotten Collins. It instantly turned into a slightly amused smirk, accompanied by a shaking head. 

"Aw, baby, did I ignore you?"

Collins pouted, and stretched out his arms. 

Angel laughed, and walked over to the couch, planting a kiss on Tom's nose, before snuggling down with him comfortably. "I'm sorry honey." 

"S'alright." Collins said, kissing Angel shortly. "I'm glad you and my friends get along so well." 

Angel kissed him back, pressing his forehead against Collins' and looking into his eyes. "I'm glad you and I get along so well."

The philosopher laughed, and rewarded this commentary with another kiss, along with two arms wrapping around his transvestite's waist and yanking the boy down the rest on his chiseled form. 

Angel nipped at his ear, tugging at the crest of it gently. Tom chuckled again, and returned this affectionate gesture with a kiss on the caramel-colored cheek. 

_Knock Knock Knock._

Angel's' face fell. 

Collins' eyebrows raised, and he got up, walking over to the door. 

"Hi Collins." 

"Hi Mark." 

Mark was having a hard time. He couldn't choose whether to be hopelessly and miserably in love with Maureen, or hopelessly and miserably in love with Roger. It was a tough decision, and he needed an expert on the subject. 

Collins sighed, invited Mark in, and poured him a cup of hot cocoa. No couch this time, however. The filmmaker was stuck leaning against the kitchen counter. 

It should be noticed that Mark was given significantly less time for solace then Maureen was, as Collins was growing tired of disruptions. And after his advice had been distributed, Collins tried as best he could to discreetly push Mark out the door. 

But, little bugger that he was, Mark didn't get the hint, and only continued to sip at his hot cocoa. 

So Tom made it a bit less discreet. 

Mark only leaned back a bit more. 

Collins looked at Mark, and smiled. 

"Mark," he said, trying to be as sweet as humanly possible when there was a gorgeous guy waiting on one's couch to be remedied of abstinence. "I've got a couple of things to do, so could I just call you later?"

Mark looked up at Collins, blankly, and shrugged. "Well, sure Collins…"

"Good." Collins ushered Mark out the door. Then he closed the door. Then he locked the door. 

Then returned to the couch. 

"I'm so sorry about that baby," Collins shook his head. 

Angel laughed, and pulled Collins down to the couch with him. "That's alright. Now-"

"Now…" Collins chuckled, reaching to kiss Angel. 

The phone rang.

"Can we just ignore it?" Collins groaned, falling back against the arm of the couch. 

Angel shook his head. "Aw, honey, I feel bad about not answering it…"

"Fine." Collins closed his eyes, and leaned against the firm padding of the sofa. "Do you want me to get it? 

"No, I will." 

Angel made his way to the phone, and picked it up. "'lo?" 

"It's Joanne. Have you seen Maureen today?"

"…yes?"

"Well, she told you completely the wrong story! I was just trying to-"

Angel listened on, nodding and adding in an "okay honey" every now and then. 

"So, do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Um hm. Um, I gotta go Joanne, I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay." 

Angel dropped the phone on the hook. "Finally…"

_BRING!! BRING!! BRING!!_

Collins and Angel laughed halfheartedly, and Tom reached out to pick up the phone. "I've got it this time…" (pause} "Hello?"

"Collins? It's Roger." 

"Hi Roger."

"Mimi is the most inconsiderate bitch I've ever met! Do you _know_ the kind of stupid expectations she has?"

"Um…no?"

"Of course not. I mean, it's fuckin' sick! She's always like, 'Roger, get me this.' Or, 'Roger, you can't go _there_. Come _here_ with _me._' AURGH!!"

Collins nodded, half sympathetic as he thought miserably of how he _could_ be cuddling up with Angel right at the moment instead of listening to Roger complain. 

"Okay. Yeah. Alright. Yes Roger. Listen, I've got to go. Bye." 

The phone was dropped. "If one more person calls…"

As if on cue, the phone rang. 

Angel rolled his eyes. "Let's just leave it." 

Collins nodded, and lay back down on the couch. "Okay." 

But it was very hard to concentrate on _anything_ with that harsh ringing. 

"Don't they _ever_ give it up?" Angel moaned, pushing Collins off of his chest and sitting up. "This is getting to be _too much._"

Collins dropped his face in his hands. He hated his friends at the moment. Each and every one of them. 

Except Benny and Mimi. They hadn't called ye-

"Yes Mimi," Angel said in a rather monotone, please-get-off-the-phone-and-let-me-get-back-to-my-own-boyfriend voice. "Of course Mimi. (pause) Men are jerks Mimi. (pause) They should all be put in a pen with he pigs Mimi. (pause) Of _course_ you deserve better. (pause) Yes, dump the asshole and go out with Benny." _I don't particularly care_ **_what_** _you do as long as you get off my phone and leave me_ **_alone_**_!! _Angel thought to himself, hanging up the phone. 

"That should be all of them."

"Unless all of _my_ friends decide to call and gripe about _their_ problems. But I have no shame in hanging up on Sasha."

Collins laughed, and picked up the receiver off the phone hook, then dropped it into the drawer that was located on the side table where the phone sat by the couch. "There. No interruptions." 

"What about the door?"

Collins and Angel both looked towards the door, deciding. 

It was Angel who came up with the brilliant idea. "Do you have any poster board?"

"Ummm…I think so." 

"Cool. Get it out." 

Collins left into the other room to get the poster board, and came back momentarily. "Here."

"Now I need a big blue magic marker." 

This, too, was delivered to him. 

Angel grinned wickedly, and wrote in large, bold, decorative letters: 

ANGEL AND COLLINS 

**ADVICE: $10.00 PER VISIT**

**11:00 a.m.-3:30 p.m. MONDAY-FRIDAY**

**12:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m. SATURDAY & SUNDAY**

It was Thursday, and 7:00 in the evening. No interruptions. No disturbances. A quiet flat. 

Angel walked outside their apartment, and taped it to the door so that any passerby, (or potential disturbance) could clearly see it. 

Then he walked back in, and tugged on Collins' shirt. "Peace and quiet and last." 

Collins chuckled, before crushing Angel's mouth with his own. "At last…"

** **


End file.
